


Moves Like Jagger

by honeypepero (bamkam)



Category: Block B, K-pop
Genre: M/M, and basically just hashed together two old tumblr posts, based off of the old vid of block b with the dogs, because i found this tonight and figured i'd finally just post the damn thing, businessman!minhyuk and rocker!kwon, don't ask about the dog this is old and i didn't change anything, this is oooooollllllldd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 08:25:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7969537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamkam/pseuds/honeypepero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Like the tag says, this is hella old and really I just needed to share this again, only in fic form!<br/>Also, I revised this for like five seconds, so if I missed anything then oops.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Moves Like Jagger

**Author's Note:**

> Like the tag says, this is hella old and really I just needed to share this again, only in fic form!  
> Also, I revised this for like five seconds, so if I missed anything then oops.

When the representative from the Korean Kennel Federation calls him, Yukwon never would have thought that it would be to host one of their beloved competitions. Groaning, he lifts his arms to stretch out the kinks in his back as he sits up in his bed, just barely covering a long yawn.

“You sure you got the right guy?”

“I-I’m sorry?”

Grunting, he reaches over and snatches the pack of cigarettes and lighter off of his floor and cracks open an eye to blearily light one before he answers. “You know who I am right? Kim Yukwon? Lead singer of—“

“ _Yes_ ,” and Yukwon finds it a lot easier to wake up when he hears the hiss from the female representative. Her voice is just barely louder than a whisper, and the blonde grins at the thought that the poor girl might be slumped over her desk with her hand covering her mouth “Singer of—I know, just—you were _requested_ since you appeared in the article with your dog—“ At this, Yukwon’s eyebrows shoot up, and he takes an interested puff of his cigarette, “—and we’ve been trying to get ahold of you for a couple days now, Mr. Kim, so I just need to know whether you accept the host role or not.” The girl’s voice is way too brusque when she finishes talking, and Yukwon’s grin broadens as he listens to her scramble to repeat herself in order to add the proper, polite lilt at the end. “Ah-or not? I mean?”

Humming, Yukwon rolls his head on his shoulders, staring first at his ceiling before looking down to pick at the small burn hole in his comforter. From underneath the bed he can hear the tinkling of tags clinking together before there’s a long sigh, and he presses the phone hard against his ear. “Can I bring Jagger?”

 “W-what? Who?”

Raising an eyebrow, Yukwon huffs. “My dog from the interview.”

“Oh! Oh, I uh—hosts can’t bring pets to compete in the dog show—“

“No, I just wanna bring him to the show. You know, to show that I know what I’m talking about when it comes to dogs.”

The hesitation is so evident through the phone that Yukwon would laugh if he wasn’t so serious about the stipulation. “W-well, is he a pedigree?”

Yukwon’s smile turns devilish. “Nope. Just a mutt.”

The silence goes on for so long that Yukwon actually has to pull his phone away from his ear to see whether the girl hung up on him, but soon there’s the sound of papers shuffling on the line and a barely-concealed huff. “I don’t see why not.”

“Wonderful!” Yukwon shouts around his cig, pumping a fist into the air.

“ _But_ he has to stay on a leash, he can’t bark, and _you_ have to be—“

“Honey, it’s seven in the morning. Just text or email or whatever my manager the deets and I’ll do whatever you need.”

 “I never knew the _Slanderous Skullhead_ would have been an animal lover.” The simpering voice jeers and Yukwon hears the click of the phone before his blood pressure can even begin to rise. In an effort to get the last _something_ , he chucks his phone back onto the bedside table just in time for Jagger to wiggle out from under the bed, turning his watery eyes up at Yukwon.

Yukwon huffs.

“Don’t look at me like that. At least I was able to even get you into the damn thing, Jaggy-boy.”

 

_“Just keep him on a leash and near you at all times.”_

Somehow, as he stares down at the leash and broken collar, Yukwon knew this was going to happen.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , fuck,” He mutters, ducking in-between the crowds and booths as he desperately tries to spot the familiar dark brown coat of his dog. There’s a lot more people than he expected, and even more people who are willing to come up to him and discuss the event than the singer wants to deal with right now, forced to come to a stop almost every few steps and plaster a smile on his face as he discusses the different events he’s in charge of. No one seems to notice how tightly he’s gripping the half-empty water bottle in his hands, or either they don’t care about how much noise he’s making with the plastic, probably excusing it as pre-show jitters.

After the fifth time he’s stopped, he’s wishing that he would’ve brought his spiked jacket to exude _some_ kind of intimidating personality because obviously his appropriately beige sweater isn’t doing enough to keep people away. Giving a quick bow, he shakes hands with a man in a sports jacket whose name he definitely didn’t catch, and tries to look as interested as possible while also looking around the area at ankle-level.

“Oh, you’re that singer of that one group! Smashing Skulls or something!”

“Slanderous Skullheads,” Yukwon tries to keep his grimace to a minimum. The dude is at least closer than Glamorous Smashmouths.

“Yeah, yeah, you do all the screaming right? My son listens to you. Heck, I’m surprised they got someone like you to host this event! Bet it’s a lot of pressure for someone like you!”

“Uh,” he’s given up on bothering to even look the man in the eye, going back to searching the ground for any site of Jagger like—like _that_ _right there_. “Excuse me!”

Pushing past him, Yukwon chases after the chubby speckled white tail, crouching down low to try to spot his pup underneath the tables. Rounding around a table, he finally spots the familiar brown butt of Jagger and nearly gives a whoop of victory as he rushes down the aisle.

The feeling of excitement is quickly ripped out of him when he spots Jagger, the nosey and friendly little shit that he is, cornering two of the tiniest puppies Yukwon as ever seen in his life against the legs of a table. Yukwon’s heart goes out to the toy poodles as he watches the too-excited Jagger practically press them into the ground as he sniffs and licks them, and he can’t help but laugh as one of the puppies lets out a small squeak of a bark before nipping at the boxer’s nose, startling him. When the smaller of the poodles finally pops out from behind Jagger, barking excitedly and waving its fluffy tail, Yukwon sees the bright gold medal hanging from its collar and his blood runs cold. Because his lovable mutt of a dog is getting his sniff on with the three-time winning champions.

Yukwon wishes it wasn’t a non-smoking event.

“Jagger, Jagger, c’mere you little—I can’t _believe_ out of all the dogs you sniff _their_ butts—“ Surging forward, he tries to coax the boxer away, intent on separating the dogs before anyone notices because not only does he want to get in trouble at a freaking _dog show_ of all events, but he also doesn’t want to meet the owner who will definitely be angry at him. But then Jagger growls at him, moves to stand in front of the pups and refuses to budge, and Yukwon realizes with cold dread that this traitor is _protecting_ them. “Are you kidding me, you little—“

“Choco? Waffle?!”

“ _Fuck_.”

Yukwon is already kissing his MC job goodbye while he turns around to face the owner, apologies already spilling from his mouth as he tries to think of some way to stay in the program. But his tongue goes slack and his mind blanks when he gets a good look at the obviously expensive cashmere sweater and fucking _penny loafers_ paired with coiffed blonde hair and the most anime eyes he’s ever seen, all thrown together to create the most perfectly handsome man ever.

Yukwon, the man who doesn’t know when to shut up about _anything_ even when it means getting his entire album censored, doesn’t know what else to say other than “uh, sorry”.

“Get. Your dog. Away. From. Choco. And. Waffle. _Now_.”

And Yukwon is more than willing to suffer all the bite marks in the world just to appease Anime Eyes. Without a second thought, he marches over, snatches Jagger by the waist, and tugs him away, allowing the owner to rush over and pick up his puppies. There’s so much cooing and kisses and baby talk going on that Yukwon should feel repulsed, but he can’t help the small smile that forms as he watches the sickeningly sappy moment.

And Yukwon a.k.a. the man who doesn’t have a filter blurts out, “You should go on a date with me, gorgeous.”

Anime Eyes finally turns to look at him, inspecting Yukwon inch by slow inch—and the rocker refuses to admit how weak his knees got just from _that_ —until he meets his eyes. But still doesn’t say anything. Yukwon’s palms start itching, already trying to think of something else to say when the guy finally nods to the offending boxer and asks, “What’s his name?”

Yukwon has never been so happy to see the hint of a smile on someone’s face before.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a judge?”

“You still won didn’t you?”

Minhyuk sniffs, obviously ruffled, and Yukwon snorts. “Yes, but you still gave me a 9 on my dogs’ performance.”

At this, Yukwon’s grin turns predatory. “Well, babe, that’s because my number starts with a 9, and”—he now has to raise his voice to be heard over Minhyuk’s groaning—“I would like to remind you that you were the one who said yes!”

“Huh, must have been winner’s glow that made me do it.”

Yukwon notes with satisfaction the small grin on Minhyuk’s face.

 

Four months.

Four months since the day they started seeing each other (or, as Minhyuk puts it, “the day your dog assaulted my babies and you’re _damn_ lucky they get along now”), and Yukwon still has no idea why Minhyuk is with him.

Known more for his outlandish concerts than his own name, Yukwon likes to gauge his ears and get body piercings just for the hell of it after adding to his extensive tattoo collection. He’s had more colors and styles in his hair, worn more leather and bondage gear than should be allowed in public, and even delighted a crowd when he revealed a flashy corset piercing for his last concert. Not afraid to be censored, he actively gives his opinions on things—even when voicing them means having to cancel promotions—and Yukwon proudly keeps a list of all of the songs he’s written that have been censored.

But with how wild Yukwon is perceived to be, Minhyuk is the exact opposite. Rather than making money by pissing the government off with abrasive comments, he prefers to stay behind the scenes, choosing to observe instead of steering the conversation. Which, Yukwon supposes, is a pretty intimidating tactic because there’s really no other explanation for how Minhyuk managed to become such a successful and sought-after businessman. But the man is so well-polished, so clean around the edges, that Yukwon can’t help but compare him to a Ken doll, what with his perfect smile and how easily he can go from wearing a well-fitted suit to a pair of cargo shorts so he can chase his puppies (read: children) around. The only outlandish thing about him is his dyed blonde hair and even that is styled into a respectable hairstyle at all times.

The only time when Minhyuk breaks this image is when Yukwon spends the night.  

Only then does he get to see the wrinkles form in perfectly pressed shirts as he grabs fistfuls of the fabric to pull Minhyuk closer. Only then do golden strands fall out of place and into his eyes as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, thrusting his tongue against Yukwon’s in a way that makes the rocker tremble and his thighs fall open. Only then does Minhyuk moves his hips in that sinfully slow grind that _screams_ experience but Yukwon doesn’t know from _where_ except right now he doesn’t care because there are more important things on his mind, like fucking his boyfriend into the mattress.

Except the tiny, passing observation soon turns into a giant bolded question mark in Yukwon’s head and he’s quickly convinced himself that either Minhyuk has had a lot of bedmates or had at least a couple of dancing lessons because there is no way the man can move that gracefully without some form of practice, sexually or otherwise.

So instead of asking (for once), Yukwon decides to do some research on his own, which consists entirely of him plopping down on the couch with his laptop, using one hand to type his boyfriend’s name into Google and palming a cold drink in the other.

He honestly isn’t expecting to find much, already well aware of how scandal-free his boyfriend is—compared to himself, in which the phrase ‘Kim Yukwon scandal’ pops up before his own name in the search box—but he’s bored. Minhyuk doesn’t get off work for another couple of hours and he’s already learned his lesson on calling without warning. So settling back into the cushions, he clicks on link after hopefully interesting link.

It’s not until page 36 and two beers—also a lot of newfound admiration for his boyfriend’s accomplishments—later does Yukwon find something on some guy’s dance appreciation blog that’s been inactive for a good few years. There’s a tag devoted solely to the blogger’s favorite group, and as Yukwon scrolls through the pictures he starts to sit up a little more in his seat because while the outfits are definitely different, he’d recognize those sparkling anime eyes anywhere.

He wastes no time in clicking play on a video, his eyes glued to the screen as he watches each member’s introduction and suddenly no one else matters because within seconds of stepping forward, he’s recognized his boyfriend.

Minhyuk, his well-polished and immaculate boyfriend, is in tight jeans and scuffed shoes with messy brown hair and a shirt that says “Fuck The System” on it, and he’s _dancing_. His arms and legs hit every move perfectly, blending from sharp juts to sensuous rolls of his hips that make Yukwon shiver and grip the sides of his laptop hard because this Minhyuk definitely _loves_ touching himself, isn’t afraid to drag his palm down the his stomach before briefly tugging on his belt so the viewer can see toned abs and the briefest second of a happy trail. He’s so fucking flirtatious through the whole dance, so tantalizingly seductive, yet Yukwon doesn’t miss how perfectly controlled his movements are; he can definitely see the talent in front of him.

Underneath him, big white block letters spell out: B B O M B.

Yukwon has never been so turned on.

He watches the video seven times, each time pausing it at different moments so he can get the full affect. He doesn’t waste time, and picks up his phone, still staring as he listens to the ringing.

“Hello?”

“I’m spending the night.” Yukwon’s already downing the last of his forgotten lukewarm beer and throwing his laptop onto the cushions as he rushes into his room to grab a change of clothes.

“Wait, really? I have work tomorrow—don’t you have an interview?” Minhyuk sounds uncertain, and Yukwon groans as he tries to hold the phone between his cheek and shoulder while also repositioning his hardening cock in his jeans.

“Yeah sure, why should that stop me? We’re grown. I’ll be over in twenty!” Stopping in front of the hall mirror, he quickly runs his fingers through his hair, completely ignoring the weak protests on the other line. “Yeah, yeah, okay. See you soon, _B-bomb_.”

He stays on the line long enough to hear the sharp intake of breathe and, cackling, Yukwon hits the end button. Grabbing his I-pod and stuffing it into his jacket pocket, he walks out of his apartment with a determined skip in his step.

Because he fully plans on testing just how experienced his little Minhyuk is tonight.


End file.
